Brie had no difficulty believing this was the man who had beaten Firefly and burned her stable, for she could see the enjoyment he was deriving now from tormenting a wounded animal. Nauseated by his cruelty, Brie inhaled a deep breath. "You obviously don't care for horses, do you? I assume you were the one who tied up my mare and whipped her till she was covered with blood."
The man eyed Brie speculatively. "Liken it was me. Then again, it could 'ave been me brother. Martin likes to 'urt things, 'e does. It gets 'im excited." His gaze travelled insolently over her body. "Martin'll be right gla
d to see you. 'E ain't never 'ad a lady before. Bet you'll scream good an' loud."
Recognizing the lecherous look in his eyes, Brie shuddered. If that leer was any indication, Martin would not be the only one who had his way with her. Crooked-nose would rape her first before turning her over to his brother. Brie began to feel frightened, even knowing she had her pistol for protection. "Who are you?" she asked uneasily. "What do you want with mer
"Freddy Boulter's the name, but it ain't you I want. I want that Stanton fella. You'll be the one what brings 'im to me. I seen you and 'im riding together—an' I seen you comin' outa that cabin that day. Liken you'd been spreading yer legs for 'im"
Brie felt her cheeks burn, but she tried to ignore Boulter's crudity. "What do you want with Lord Stanton? What has he done?"
"I don't bleedin' know what ee's done, an' don't care, neither. I been paid to do a job. I mean to kill 'im."
Hearing his cold-blooded admission, Brie felt her stomach churn. "I don't expect your employer would approve of your methods," she said shakily. "Locking us in the barn wasn't very clever. And you didn't succeed in killing Lord Stanton."
The man shrugged his heavy shoulders. "'Egot lucky. But I mean to try again. I'll bet 'e'll come along right fast when 'e finds out we got you."
He took a step toward Brie. "Now, little lady, jest you 'old yer tongue. Yer be coming with me."
Brie abruptly drew the pistol and aimed it at Boulter. "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Mr. Boulter," she replied quietly. "I think you will be the one coming with me—straight to the local magistrate. Any number of people will be pleased to see you in prison."
Seeing the elegant, highly polished weapon in her hand, Boulter froze in his tracks. Brie tightened her grip on the pistol. She was tempted to put a bullet through this horrible man, but she didn't think she could stomach actually shooting him.
"Put down your gun, Mr. Boulter," she indicated the flintlock he was still holding. "It won't do you much good in any case, since you didn't reload."
Boulter hesitated, regarding Brie in indecision. He had seen women who were handy with a knife before, but never a lady with enough nerve to use a gun. This one, however, was far from fainting or having hysterics. Even though her hand was unsteady, she looked as if she meant business. She might very well shoot him. But his alternative wasn't pleasant, either. He would be sent to Newgate where he would hang. He decided to take his chances with the lady.
Swinging the flintlock around, he threw it straight at Brie, then charged her, trying to catch her off guard. Brie was in an awkward position to dodge the weapon, but she managed to deflect it away from her body with her arm. She couldn't do the same with Boulter. He landed directly on top of her, hitting her with the force of a battering ram.
Brie felt the pistol discharge in her hand, felt Boulter's heavy body give a violent jerk. Then lights exploded in her head and she tumbled into oblivion.
Dominic had reached the meadow a few moments before, but when he saw Brie sitting on the ground, conversing with the man who apparently had just shot her horse, he abruptly reined in his mount. She was still alive and he wanted her to stay that way. He would be risking her life if he charged across the meadow, for he could see the gun Boulter was holding and knew it still might be loaded. He also knew he couldn't hope for accuracy with his own pistol at that distance. His only chance to rescue Brie safely would be to circle around the field, using the trees for cover until he could get within shooting range and draw the man's fire. Even as he turned his horse, though, he saw Boulter lunge and heard the gunshot.
Dominic couldn't tell who fired or if Brie had been hit, but dread gnawed at the pit of his stomach as he galloped across the meadow. He reached her in a matter of seconds, leaping from his horse to kneel beside the two still figures.
When he rolled the man's body away and saw all the blood, Dominic thought for one heart-stopping moment that Brie might be dead. The front of her habit was drenched with red, and her face was pale and lifeless. Carefully, Dominic ran his hands over her body, but he found no wounds. Then he noticed the pistol still gripped in her hand and he let out his breath slowly.
A quick inspection of the dead man revealed a ragged hole in his chest where the ball had penetrated. Dominic murmured a silent prayer of thanks and set about the task of reviving Brie.
Loosening her jacket had no effect, so he gently slapped her face. Brie moaned, stirring slightly, then suddenly started to struggle. Dominic had trouble holding her down. "Stop fighting me, damn it! Brie, look at me."
She froze, hearing his voice, then slowly fixed her gaze on his face. Dominic could see fear in the blue-green depths.
She anxiously searched Dominic's face, clutching at his shoulders as she remembered the moment before she had blacked out. "What happened . . . to Boulter?" she whispered hoarsely.
Gently Dominic gathered her in his arms. "If you mean the fellow who was attacking you, he's dead." When her eyes filled with pain and she turned her head away, he cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. "No, Brie, it is better to talk about it. Listen to me. It isn't easy to kill a man, and your feelings are only natural. But you acted in self-defense. Would you have preferred that he kill you instead?" When she took her head, he tenderly brushed a curl back from her face. "Tell me what happened," he urged.
"I . . . I was riding across the field. . . . Jester . . . Jester is dead, isn't he?"
The trembling of her lips wrung his heart. "I haven't had a chance to look at him yet," he said grimly.
"He shot Jester . . . and he admitted setting the fire. Dominic, that man deserved to die."
She gazed up at him, her eyes pleading with him for understanding, and Dominic involuntarily clenched his fists. Wanting to comfort her, he drew Brie more closely against him.
Haltingly then, she recounted her conversation with Boulter, answering all of Dominic's questions. When she had finished, she closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder. "I didn't mean to kill him," she said, shuddering.
A surge of tenderness flooded Dominic's heart. He stroked her tumbled hair and murmured meaningless words in her ear, feeling a protectiveness he had never before felt for a woman.